To the parent complaining about the variety of choice in school meals. I have no comment. I am just relieved that my son is eating, even if his meals each day are identical to the day before!
To the mum who is worried about the loss of a school cardigan, and circulating WhatsApp messages for everyone to check their children’s bags. I’m sorry I never replied, cardigans don’t feature on my list of priorities, because just getting my son to wear clothes, is my main objective. No school wants a naked attendee!
To the teacher who questions why I forgot my daughter’s reading book, the book which should be returned on a Thursday to allow a 48 hour quarantine. I’m sorry, but I was writing an annual review submission, for my son, my seven year old whom I would love to hear read, but has not met that milestone, yet!
To the father who posted a video of his one year old son, and the word “daddy” being spoken so clearly and confidently. I’m sorry I didn’t comment, but the pain in my gut was so strong, because I never had that moment. And when I did, I was too scared to post it on social media, because my son was five years of age!
To the crowds of parents who meet up after school or on weekends, and drink coffee while their children run off and play. I’m sorry I am unable to join you or sit and relax with a mug of my own. I need to watch my son constantly. He may decide he is finished and walk away, because that’s the way his mind works.
To the grandparent who rolled her eyes while I sat on the supermarket floor, the one who tutted and said the word “discipline” under her breath. I’m sorry but I have no words to respond, because my attention is always on my son and how I can help him. But I would like to sit her down and educate her, and highlight her ignorance.
To the other parents like me who raise their glasses to achievements that are so small to others but so huge to us, I’m sorry we don’t shout louder, I’m sorry we don’t celebrate bigger. I’m sorry we let those others get to us.
I will cook pizza for every dinner. I will loose every cardigan. I will forget every reading book. I will work for hours on my son’s speech. I will sit on any cold floor to provide support.
Because every time I prioritise my son over the mundane, we see achievements. We see milestones gained. We see accomplishments.
We have bigger things to fry on this side of the fence. Come over this side anytime to see how we do things.
Because our hard is harder than any lost cardigan!